


Desert Storm

by LilyRosePotter



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Army, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Kidnapping, M/M, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:56:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyRosePotter/pseuds/LilyRosePotter
Summary: Dan’s been missing for four days. There’s been no ransom note, no sudden strikes, no clues. Tommy knows what that means. They all do.
Relationships: Dan Pfeiffer/Tommy Vietor, Jon Favreau/Jon Lovett
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29
Collections: Crooked Exchange 2020





	Desert Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wokeupscully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wokeupscully/gifts).

> I had so much fun writing this for you Heather, I hope you enjoy it!

Dan drops to his knees almost the second Tommy turns the corner into the alley between the commissary and the armory.

Tommy shakes his head, letting Dan press him back into the wall. “Fuck, you’re eager for it tonight.”

“Only have twenty minutes,” Dan mutters, already tugging at Tommy’s waistband. “I have to be at the meeting at 1600.”

Tommy groans, sliding his hands into Dan’s hair as Dan succeeds in pulling his pants and briefs down in one motion, taking Tommy’s dick in one big, callused hand. “Could have… rescheduled.”

“Then I’d miss this,” Dan smirks up at him, leaning in to lick the tip teasingly. “Wanted you like this.”

“_Fuck_,” Tommy groans, leaning his head back against the wall and bringing one arm up to muffle his groan. “You’re irresistible.”

They’ve been doing this for six months, stealing secret moments on base, in the truck driving back from missions, once, memorably, in the tent in the sand, Dan holding his hand over Tommy’s mouth as he fucked Tommy to avoid waking Jon and Lovett in their tent five feet away.

It’s not getting boring anytime soon, Tommy thinks as Dan takes him fully into his mouth, hot and tight and _so good_. Tommy’s hips roll without his conscious intent, his dick achingly hard.

“Vietor?!” Colonel Walker shouts from… way too close.

A million images flash through Tommy’s head. The look on Colonel Walker’s face. The haphazardly packed duffle as he carries it onto the plane, jeering crowds behind him. The court martial. The disappointment in his mother’s eyes.

Letters swim in front of his eyes in black and white: _Character of Service - DISHONORABLE_.

_“The only thing you carry with you always is your character and your honor,” his company leader thunders during West Point Orientation. “Dishonoring yourself and your unit is worse than death.”_

Tommy shoves Dan back, tucking himself painfully into his briefs and pants in a fluid motion. “Fuck,” he hisses. “We can't-”

Dan shakes his head mutely, sitting back on his heels, looking stunned and frozen.

Tommy takes one last look at Dan’s wide scared eyes and then pushes off the wall, stalking all the way to the edge of the alleyway in five steps and taking a few more steps to look like he’s coming from somewhere legitimate before returning a call of “Sir?” and jogging to find Colonel Walker.

***

Tommy is running his third loop around the barracks when he’s brought to an unceremonious stop by a hand on his elbow. He nearly trips forward onto his face in the dirt, free arm windmilling desperately.

The hand on his elbow tugs him upright and Tommy turns to look at its owner.

“Dan, what the _fuck_?” He hisses.

Dan glowers, pulling Tommy back into the shadow of the building. “You’ve been avoiding me for three days. What the hell is going on in your brain?”

Tommy shoves down the pinprick of guilt that Dan’s hurt face causes in his stomach. They can’t do this. No matter how fun it’s been, it’s not worth the risk.

Tommy’s spent three days wracking his brain for any solution, any way that this ends that doesn’t mean a dishonorable discharge or worse. He’s come up empty, every time. Now he’s just delaying the inevitable, time to rip the damn band aid.

“We almost got _caught_,” Tommy glares at Dan. “We can’t keep risking everything for a quick fuck.”

“That’s what this is to you?” Dan lets go of his elbow, stepping back like Tommy slapped him. “I thought-” he shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter what it is,” Tommy pushes, something hot and terrifying swirling in his gut. No matter how much - _too much_ \- he feels for Dan, it’s not worth _everything_ “I’ve worked too damn hard, West Point and Libya and Yemen and all of this goddamned sand, to throw away my career for you.”

“Right,” Dan takes another step back, face a little pale. “Fine. I’ll see you at drills, Captain Vietor.” His voice is colder than Tommy’s ever heard it and it fills Tommy’s veins with ice.

Tommy closes his eyes and thinks about the dishonorable discharge, the look in Colonel Walker's eyes, the thousands of rejection letters that would follow any resume he sent out until the fire rises to melt the ice Dan left behind. When he opens his eyes again, feeling steady and certain of his decision, Dan is gone.

***

“We’ll take the right half, you two take the left?” Jon cocks his head outside the town square they’re meant to search for the Kata'ib Hizballah safehouse.

“Ah,” Tommy glances at Dan. Dan stubbornly doesn’t look back, jaw set and eyes stormy, just like he’s been for the past week since he walked away from Tommy in the early morning light. The idea of searching the town together for _hours_ sounds like hell. “What if you and I go right, Jon? And Dan and Lovett take the left.”

“Fine by me,” Dan mutters.

“I guess.” Tommy feels, rather than sees the look Jon and Lovett exchange. But he’s getting what he wants, he reminds himself, as he follows Jon’s steady footsteps, that’s all that matters.

“What’s your deal?” Jon asks, sudden and sharp after fifteen minutes of silent work. “This team doesn’t work if we don’t trust each other.”

“We trust each other,” Tommy says automatically. “Just need a break.”

“Well,” Jon pushes a door open and looks around “Clear,” he mutters, stepping inside, then continues, “as long as you’re both ready to play your parts in the mission.”

Tommy swallows. They have a long-planned strike on Hizballah's armory in a week. It’s likely to be one of the riskiest missions he’s been sent on since he joined special forces, and it’s the reason for their careful surveillance now. Hizballah would do anything to get their hands on intel about the mission.

“I’ll be ready,” Tommy says firmly. “It’s going to go smoothly.”

“Good,” Jon cracks a smile at him as he leads them into the next building. “And you’re still coming to poker tomorrow night?”

Tommy’s answer is cut off by a sudden loud crackle over their comms. Gunfire. Yelling. And then Lovett calling, frantic, “SOS.”

Jon turns on a dime, almost letting the door hit Tommy in the face as he sprints down the street, Tommy shaking off the fog of thought to catch up, following on Jon’s heels, hand on his gun as they race through the city streets, pushing confused civilians aside.

Tommy sees the smoke before anything else, billowing out of a building that looks like it’s, no, definitely has been bombed. A small explosion, Tommy’s brain catalogues, looking at the shattered windows, calculated for distraction more than damage.

Distraction from what, he wonders for a split second before Jon grabs for a figure in the smoke.

Lovett, coughing up a lung and gasping for air for a full minute before he can manage, “they took Dan.”

Tommy’s sprinting into the smoke before his brain can even process the decision to move.

“Tommy!” Jon or Lovett or both call distantly behind him. “Wait!”

_They took Dan_. Tommy turns on his flashlight, shining it into smoky corners like he’s going to find proof that Lovett’s wrong, that they just got separated in the confusion. Dan’s going to be here, around a corner, glowering at Tommy with hurt and angry eyes. He has to be.

“Tommy,” Jon’s hands land on his shoulders an interminable time later. Dan’s not here. “Backup’s here, let the medics check you out.”

“No,” Tommy shakes his head. “I have to-”

Jon spins him around, hands firm while Tommy feels like his whole body has turned to jelly. “We’ll find him,” Jon promises, eyes alight with the fire that had convinced Tommy to get up out of the mud during their very first week of drills as cadets, the fire that convinced Tommy to try for Special Forces with him. “Tommy, we’re gonna find him.”

“Yeah,” Tommy says softly, letting Jon tug him towards the light at the mouth of the building. “We have to.”

***

The maps don’t have any hidden clues. The files don’t either, even when Tommy goes back to logs from long before their team got to the base. Dan’s just disappeared into thin air and everyone - Jon, Lovett, Colonel Walker - seems to have accepted that he’s gone, that they can’t get him back.

“Tommy,” a soft voice says behind him. Jon’s hand lands on his shoulder like it’s finals week and he found Tommy in the library at two a.m. “You’ve got to _sleep_.”

“We have to _find_ him,” Tommy says desperately, instinctively, every pretense and every wall he’s built for years crumpling in the blurry lines of the map in front of him and the low light of the lantern.

“We will,” Jon promises, soft and unbearably understanding, even though there’s no way he can understand this. Even though he doesn’t know how Tommy misses Dan like he’s missing a limb. Even though he doesn’t know that even if Tommy put the papers away and got in bed, he couldn’t sleep. He hasn’t been able to sleep since Dan was kidnapped. Since he heard that echoing boom through the streets, filling Tommy’s lungs with dust and his heart with a wave of guilt that threatens to drown him.

“Jon,” Tommy gasps, letting Jon turn his body by the shoulder to meet Jon’s eyes with Tommy’s own. “We _have_ to. I have to. It’s my _fault_.”

“How the fuck-?” Jon stares at him, looking genuinely nonplussed. Like he doesn’t remember Tommy pitching a hissy fit like a thirteen year old girl. Tommy shakes his head, starting to pull away when Jon’s eyes widen. “You mean because you sent him with Lovett to search?”

“_Yeah_,” Tommy swallows. If he’d been with Dan, he could have done _something_, anything.

“I mean it was dumb,” Jon rolls his eyes. “I still don’t know what the hell was going on between the two of you, but-” Tommy swallows. “_Tom_,” Jon squeezes his shoulder, “You’re a damn good soldier, but even you can’t prevent a bomb from going off.”

“I should have _been_ there!” Tommy yells.

“It was _not_ your fault,” Jon shakes him a little. “No one thinks that. Dan wouldn’t blame you for a second.”

“You don’t _get_ it, Jon,” Tommy pleads. “The last thing I ever said to him…”

_I’ve worked too damn hard to throw away my career for you._

Tommy sees Dan’s hurt, pale, desperate face swim in front of him. He can’t get Dan’s damn face out of his head. The desperate hurt look under the icy mask he slid on when Tommy destroyed them; the way he looked up through his eyelashes sucking Tommy off; the open giggle he gave every one of Tommy’s jokes, even the shit ones; the fond smile that Tommy used to hope, against every instinct in his body, meant that Dan was just as head over heels for Tommy as Tommy was for him. _Is_ for him.

The imagined look of shock and horror when the bomb went off. Dan’s eyes closing for the last time, far away from Tommy, far away from any chance Tommy had to _fix_ things.

_I’ve worked too damn hard to throw away my career for you._

Tommy wishes he’d never said that. He should have pulled Dan close, instead, promised that it was worth anything the world could throw at them, promised that he’s so so in love with Dan. Tommy would throw his career away for Dan. He’d throw the whole damn world away for Dan; just for the chance to look in Dan’s eyes one more time.

“Tom,” Jon says distantly, like it’s the third or fourth time he’s called Tommy’s name. “I don’t know what happened between you but it doesn’t change that you need sleep.”

Tommy shakes his head, shoves Jon’s hand off his shoulder and reaches for the file from their mission in Baa’j. “I’m fine. I just have to go over this again.”

***

“We need to go over the plans for the strike on Kata'ib Hizballah's armory again,” Colonel Walker says as he stalks into their strategic office.

Tommy closes the map he’s been pouring over, looking for clues that aren’t there and rises to attention, seeing Jon and Lovett do the same out of the corner of his eye.

“With respect sir,” Jon says, eyes flicking over to Tommy. “Do you think it’s advisable to carry on the strike? With Pfeiffer missing?”

Tommy’s heart clenches. Dan’s been missing for four days. There’s been no ransom note, no sudden strikes, no _clues_. He knows what that means. They all do.

“Yes,” Colonel Walker says sharply. “In fact, it’s more pressing now than ever, and I want to move the strike up. Two days. Is that enough to gather everything you’ll need?”

“Yes sir,” Lovett answers immediately. “We’re mostly ready. Will we be taking a replacement fourth?”

“Rhodes will go along,” Colonel Walker nods. “Favreau, bring him up to speed, _discreetly_.”

“Two days,” Jon swallows, “to get prepped and bring Rhodes in? Why the acceleration?”

Because he’s worried it’s compromised, Tommy answers in his head. But not enough to actually try to protect _us_, just enough to try and save the mission.

“You know the answer to that,” Colonel Walker raises an eyebrow. “If Hizballah has Pfeiffer, or someone who wants to get in good with them does, it’s to get the details on this strike. We have to change it up, in case he…”

He trails off delicately, but Tommy can’t let even the implication stand.

“He would never,” Tommy says in a voice laced with steel. “Pfeiffer wouldn’t sell us out with his dying breath.”

And _that_, is why in all likelihood, he’s dead already.

“I hope you’re right Vietor,” Colonel Walker says evenly. “Your lives might just depend on it.”

***

The mission goes off without a hitch.Tommy mentally awards himself a point. _Vietor 1, Colonel Walker 0_. Then a cold shiver runs down his spine and he wipes the smirk off his mental whiteboard. The mission went off without a hitch.

“I could get used to this kind of teamwork,” Rhodes smirks at Tommy as he jogs past, pushing the handcuffed guard towards the van.

“Don’t,” Tommy mutters, stalking into the control room for a more careful inventory, now that they’ve checked for bombs. Ben’s fine, he’s great even, for poker night in the barracks… but not as Dan’s replacement.

“You say something to Rhodes?” Jon asks five minutes later. Tommy’s halfway into the mess on the desk in the control room, categorizing shreds of paper. “He looks like a kicked puppy.”

Tommy shrugs and doesn’t bother responding. Shitty bomb diagram, an IOU for beer, another shitty bomb diagram, a list of names, yet _another_ shitty bomb diagram, with a-

Wait.

“Jon,” Tommy swallows. “Come look at this.”

“Oh, now I exist,” Jon huffs, but he’s at Tommy’s side in a second. “What am I looking at?”

“This map, in the corner” Tommy points, glancing at the bomb diagram while Jon looks. It’s a weird bomb, not the normal construction Hizballah uses, but smaller. Looks like it would pack far less power and… he’s seen it before. “I’ve seen this bomb before.”

“Tommy,” Jon’s voice is shaking as much as Tommy’s hands are as they come to the same realization. “That’s the bomb that blew the building in Sumayr. This might be a map to Dan.”

***

Tommy shoves a couple guns into a duffle, then steps back to survey his mostly empty locker. He’s got maps and weapons and water and rations for a day or two. Once he figures out how to get a truck, he’ll be on his way to-

To check out the location on the map that they recovered, he instructs himself firmly. Tommy has to stay clear headed about the goals and likely outcomes of this career suicidal and possibly actually suicidal mission.

Dan may be dead already. The map may be a trap, or a false lead, or any of the other things Colonel Walker thundered at him for an hour, while Jon and Lovett just _stood there_, silent, like they, too, think Tommy is insane and blinded and _“trying to be a damn hero_”.

Tommy doesn’t want to be a hero. He wants them all to stay safe on base, possibly forever. But-

They may have found a map to Dan. You don’t leave a man behind when you have the chance to rescue him.

_Tommy_ can’t let any chance, however slim, to bring Dan home go to waste. He’ll fucking walk through the desert if he has to.

Tommy grabs the knife from the bottom of his locker, just in case, and reaches to close the metal door. A hand closes over his, stopping him in his tracks.

“Get out of the way Lovett!” Tommy whirls on him. “I’m fucking going and unless you’re gonna restrain me by force you’d better step aside.”

Lovett rolls his eyes and lets Tommy go, taking the steps to his own locker. He pulls out a gun and waves it insolently, Tommy’s heart slowing, infinitesimally.

“I got a truck,” Jon jingles a set of keys in front of Tommy’s face. “Let’s go.”

Tommy swallows hard and grabs the keys, heart aching with relief. They’re coming with him. He doesn’t have to see this through by himself. "I thought you didn't want to do this."

“And let you go off and get yourself killed?” Jon snorts. “No way."

Tommy blinks at him. "Really?"

"Dumbass," Jon punches his arm, hard. "Of course we're gonna rescue him. Some of us just don't waste our breath fighting losing battles."

"I was trying to get the resources that we need to pull this thing off," Tommy glares petulantly.

Jon holds up his gun. "We've got everything we need."

"And we need to go," Lovett grabs Tommy's arm and tugs him towards the door.

“We do,” Tommy nods, setting his jaw and falling into step besides them. They can do this, together.

***

Tommy can practically hear all of Lovett’s mental cracks about the relative professionalism of the three of them versus the guards at the Hizballah compound every time they round a corner in the filthy building.

Luckily, Lovett restrains himself and they make quick work of the first ten guards, moving with expert precision that should make the Army proud, until they reach a door that’s actually locked.

Jon pulls out a lock pick and carefully takes it apart, holding his hand up for quiet as he steps back, listening.

A pained groan echoes out through the door and Tommy’s control snaps. He can’t stop, he can’t wait, he can’t _think_, he has to get _in that room._

“Tommy!” Jon hisses behind him “Stop!”

But Tommy’s already got the door open, gun lifted to return fire on the three guards who rush him. He hears Jon and Lovett sigh behind him, hears their guns start firing too, but Tommy can’t see anything but the guard who goes down in front of him and the huddled lump in the corner.

“Dan!” Tommy gasps, sprinting across the dingy floor.

Jon is calling Tommy’s name but Tommy ignores him to kneel beside Dan’s broken body. Dan’s skin is mottled with blood and bruises and dirt and - Tommy sucks in a breath - nasty looking burns, covering his chest and upper arms. His arms are chained to the wall, his right hand crumpled at an unnatural angle, like every bone in it is crushed.

Dan’s eyes look like they’re nearly swollen shut, but when Tommy touches his face, murmuring desperately, “Hey, hey, we’re here, hang on,” Dan turns his head, with an incoherent sound, towards Tommy’s voice.

“We’re gonna get you out of here,” Tommy promises, feeling rather than seeing Jon kneel beside him, lifting tools to work at Dan’s chains. Dan slumps forward as soon as Jon gets them loose and Tommy catches him as gently as he can.

“I’ve got you,” Tommy murmurs, pulling Dan’s left arm over his own shoulders carefully. “Can you walk?”

"Yeah." Dan mumbles, slurring and barely audible.

Jon sighs and slips over to take Dan's other arm, wincing when Dan cries out at the movement. "Lovett can go ahead and pull the truck closer," Jon directs as he and Tommy carefully leverage Dan to his feet.

Lovett nods, holding up his gun. "I'll meet you by the back door."

Dan groans miserably with each step as they pull him along the corridors, the sound twisting Tommy’s chest into worried knots.

Tommy frowns and holds him a little tighter, trying to take more of his weight as Dan’s head slumps onto Tommy’s shoulder. "It's not too far, you're okay," he reassures mindlessly.

“Almost there,” Jon promises, lifting his gun seamlessly to shoot one last guard who appears to block the door before shoving the outer door open as Lovett pulls up in a cloud of dust.

Jon throws the back door of the truck open before helping Tommy heft Dan into the backseat. Tommy climbs up after Dan, settling into the seat and carefully lowering Dan’s head into his lap, stroking his hair back. “You're okay, you're okay," Tommy murmurs.

Jon closes the door and climbs into the passenger seat. "Drive. Fast.”

Lovett nods, “I’m going,” speeding onto the road.

Tommy loses track of the turns he’d studied so carefully on the infinitely long drive here, with every ounce of his attention on Dan, promising to get him help and begging him to hang on quietly, feeling like if he stops talking, Dan will slip away.

Jon coughs softly after a minute or an hour, “water,” and Tommy looks up just long enough to take the bottle gratefully, tipping back a big swallow himself, before gently wetting his fingers to get some water onto Dan’s cracked, dry lips.

Dan moans and flinches at the touch and Tommy swallows “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, we’re almost there.”

Lovett grits his teeth. "I'm going as fast as I can."

Tommy nods and repeats, "I know, we're okay, he's going to be okay," more to convince himself than anything else.

"He's gonna be okay," Jon agrees calmingly. "We're almost there."

Tommy looks up, a little panicked, just in time to see the base come into view. Jon turns back to grin, “Home sweet home" as Lovett drives through the gates

Tommy snorts, "something like that,” pushing away his thoughts about how homely the base is _not_ to carefully lift Dan to a sitting position as Lovett stops the van outside the med center.

Jon swings the door open, "I'll go have them bring a gurney out."

Tommy strokes Dan's hair, nodding, "thank you," not trusting himself to look up until Jon is back with a couple nurses and the gurney, helping them lift Dan onto it. He runs alongside the gurney until one of the nurses pushes him away.

"No, I need to be with him,” Tommy argues, but she just shakes her head and pushes him back. Jon’s strong arms wrap around Tommy’s chest, holding him back.

“Let them work,” Jon cajoles, “he’s gonna be okay.”

Tommy frowns "I need to-" head spinning a little. He needs to tell Dan, he needs to be with him, he needs-

“Tommy!” Jon’s voice sounds far away, even as his arms tighten. Tommy tries to push back to his feet but he feels so heavy. “_Tommy!_”

The world goes black.

***

Tommy feels like he’s floating in a cloud.

“You absolute fucking morons!” A very angry cloud. “This is why we have a damn protocol, now I’m down two men on my best damn team!”

“There wasn’t another option,” Jon sounds _scared_. Why is he scared of the cloud, it’s soft and fuzzy and _floaty_.

“He’s never going to shoot again.” A hand comes down on Tommy’s foot, or where his foot should be, he can’t actually feel his feet. Tommy wiggles them experimentally, nothing. Well, you don’t need feet to float in a cloud. “I hope to god it was worth it.”

“It was.” Lovett is defiant.

Someone touches Tommy’s head. It feels like lead. “Go back to sleep Tom, it’s okay.”

***

“Hey,” Jon touches Tommy’s forehead gently, “stay still, I’m gonna call a nurse.”

A nurse? Tommy blinks into bright annoying light. Hospital light. They’re in the hospital, cause- “Dan!” Tommy sits bolt upright. “Where is he?”

Jon’s hand moves to his shoulder, pushing Tommy back down into the bed. “You got shot, you’re not moving until a doctor clears you, asshole.”

Tommy blinks at him. He doesn’t remember getting shot. All he remembers is Dan’s tortured groans and heavy lolling head in Tommy’s lap. “I need to know that he’s okay.”

"They're taking good care of him," Jon promises.

Tommy gasps in relief. "He's alive then?" Tommy might have a _chance_ to fix his worst fucking mistake.

"He is," Jon nods. "And I think the outlook is good, so, relax."

Tommy leans back, closing his eyes against the walls that are spinning a little. "And what happened to me?"

"You got shot,” Jon’s glare is audible. “Probably when you rushed into a room without fucking checking how many guns were in it."

Tommy lets out a breath, heart rate evening for the first time in a week. "We got him, and we're mostly okay."

“Yeah,” Jon sighs, long suffering. "Colonel Walker chewed us out, but- it's mostly alright."

Tommy groans. The angry cloud. "He's not going to court martial us?"

"He might,” Jon shrugs, “but not this second."

"I'll take it," Tommy sighs. He’d take a lot worse, but he doesn’t want Jon and Lovett going down for this too.

“Me too,” Jon laughs darkly. “Let me call you a nurse.”

"It does hurt," Tommy sighs, squinting at the bandage on his arm. “But I want to see Dan.”

“Pain meds,” Jon rolls his eyes. “Dan isn’t going anywhere and neither are you, I’ll sit on you if I have to.”

***

The next time Tommy wakes up, his head feels a little clearer and the room isn’t quite spinning when he forces his eyes away. The only pain he’s conscious of is a constant thrumming ache that, when he focuses on it, seems to be chanting Dan’s name.

Jon’s asleep in the visitor’s chair, neck cricked at a painful looking angle and Tommy swallows and seizes the moment. Jon can’t stop him if Jon doesn’t know he’s going. Tommy’s half out of bed before he registers the tug at his wrist and looks down. Damn IV. His fingernails dig into it, pinching hard and yanking the tube back, biting his lips ‘til he tastes blood at the twinge it leaves behind.

The hallways are eerily quiet as he races down them, pushing at three doors before he finds the right one and steps in.

Dan’s asleep, looking so small in the bed under a swathe of white bandages. He’s hooked up to four different machines and tubes, chest rising and falling slowly, but steadily.

Tommy falls into the visitor’s chair, feeling a little woozy, but he’s almost certain he isn’t going to throw up as he lifts Dan’s unbandaged left hand in his own, running his fingers gently over the callused rough skin. “God, you _have_ to be okay,” Tommy murmurs, squeezing Dan’s hand gently.

It feels like time stands still, the only sound Dan’s labored breathing and the steady beeping of the heart monitor, until minutes or hours later, a doctor steps into the room, her eyes narrowing as she sees Tommy.

Tommy looks up, feeling the blood drain from his face as he begs, "Please let me stay."

"I don't think you'll listen if I tell you to leave," the doctor sighs deeply.

Tommy swallows. "Probably not, no."

"Then sit there and be quiet," she rolls her eyes.

Tommy smiles and mouths, "thank you," not letting go of Dan's hand as he watches her work. He manages a full two minutes of quiet before he asks, "so... how is he?"

The doctor sighs, "I guess I should be glad that you lasted that long," and looks at Dan with a slight frown, "he has a long road ahead of him."

Tommy nods and leans forward. "But, he'll be okay?"

“He's out of the woods. for now at least,” she nods.

Tommy swallows, leaning back in the chair with relief. "Oh thank god."

"I'm going to wake him up soon,” the doctor makes a note on Dan’s chart, “but he's going to be in a lot of pain."

Tommy nods slowly, "I'll stay."

"Whatever," she shakes her head.

Tommy swallows and bites his lip, falling quiet again until she lifts Dan's bandaged hand. "Are- is he gonna be able to use those fingers?"

"I honestly don't know until we get them unwrapped and see what nerve damage there is," the doctor says absently.

Tommy swallows. Dan might not ever get his hand back. Tommy can’t imagine him without the use of his right hand: waving it as he speaks, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation, shooting straight and accurate, slipping his fingers into Tommy- "Okay. Fuck."

The doctor eyes him, a little more sympathetically. "They did a number on him. He's going to survive, but, it's going to take a lot of hard work"

"He's good at hard work," Tommy nods slowly. “Dan’s the hardest working person I know.”

She nods, smiling even softer, “I believe you.”

Tommy swallows and squeezes Dan's hand gently. "I don't want him to be in pain, but I do want him to wake up."

"I'm waking him now,” the doctor slides a syringe into Dan’s IV, “I need to see where he's at."

Tommy nods, sliding forward in his seat, watching Dan's face intently so that he sees the very moment Dan's eyes start fluttering open. He leans forward even more at the movement, stifling a groan as his arm twinges, squeezing Dan’s hand and murmuring, "Dan, hey."

Dan turns towards his voice, his eyes still cloudy and his eyelashes fluttering, "Tommy? I'm dreaming, don't wake me up."

Tommy chokes a little, squeezing Dan's hand. "You’re not dreaming. We rescued you, you're safe, we're in the hospital on base."

Dan's eyes blink open a little further, his head turning on the pillow. "You're real?"

"Hi,” Tommy smiles wetly, “I'm very real"

Dan looks him over, thirstily like Tommy's the water he's been craving in the desert, then pauses, eyes on Tommy's sling. "You're hurt."

Tommy shakes his head, heart twisting at the fact that _that_ is what Dan noticed first. "A flesh wound. It's nothing."

Dan frowns, moving his hand slowly like he's just noticed Tommy's holding it to squeeze clumsily. "Still. I hope you didn't get it on my behalf."

"Worth it," Tommy shrugs a little, heart pounding as he smiles softly at Dan. "You're safe."

Dan's frowns deepens. "Wouldn't mean anything if you weren't too."

Tommy swallows back the hope swelling in his chest and squeezes Dan’s hand tightly. "I am."

"Okay," the doctor clears her throat, "I want to check you out, Dan."

Dan groans, not looking away from Tommy as he sighs, "Do whatever you need to do."

Tommy smiles softly at him, "Colonel Walker is gonna want to talk to you too. Later."

Dan swallows, the movement looking painful and says too quick, "I didn't give them anything."

"Not what I was worried about,” Tommy squeezes his hand reassuringly, “Do you know who they were?"

Dan shivers, glancing over the doctor quickly. "I've got clearance," she laughs, "and I also, hm, don't care."

"Hizballah," Dan mumbles quickly. "You know what they wanted."

Tommy frowns, "I didn't think they had it in them."

"Me neither,” Dan shakes his head. “I would have been more careful if I had."

Tommy shudders, "I should have been with you. I'm, ah, sorry for asking to split up."

Dan squints and holds back a cry as the doctor twists his elbow. "You had every right to. What happened-"

He glances at the doctor and stops short.

Tommy squeezes his hand a little, wanting to make so many promises, but just murmurs, "Later."

The doctor moves down to Dan’s wrist. “I'm going to check your hand out. This is going to hurt, I’m sorry.”

Dan nods, face set, "I'm ready," and squeezes Tommy's hand, hard. His grip tightens painfully when the doctor starts testing his fingers, one by one.

Tommy shudders and leans closer, trying to keep Dan’s focus. "Keep squeezing, and look at me."

Dan turns, his eyes so wide and his pupils dark and pained, as they grasp onto Tommy's.

Tommy leans closer, ignoring the twinge in his arm. "It's okay, you're good,” he casts about mentally for a distraction. “Want to hear about Lovett's latest disgusting mess concoction?"

"Please," Dan gasps out, teary and harsh-sounding.

Tommy nods, trying to keep Dan's eyes on his. "He took mac and cheese and mixed it with the orange chicken stir fry."

Dan makes a face, his grimace of pain slipping into a lighter grimace of disgust. "Did you try it?"

"Do I look stupid?" Tommy snorts.

Dan laughs through a cry of pain, "Lovett is very persuasive."

"Jon tried it,” Tommy laughs at the memory. “Any interest I might have had was gone after that."

Dan chokes, "that I really would have liked to see."

"He did that face,” Tommy grins conspiratorially, “That’s half betrayal and half like he wants to cry."

Dan grins weakly. "I love that face. He's so wounded."

“And yet, Lovett convinces him to try this stuff every time," Tommy nods.

"Jon has a blindspot for him," Dan shrugs a little, wincing.

Tommy smiles a little crookedly, "And he's gullible as hell."

"And that," Dan grunts. "We're due for a good prank soon.”

Tommy nods. "We are, fuck. I'm sure Lovett's scheming. Remember the laundry one?"

Dan laughs a little, breathing through his teeth as the doctor lifts his shattered middle finger. "Of course I do. I still have the photo somewhere.”

Tommy smiles, "Me too. Even though we didn't get the dye out for weeks."

Dan shakes his head, "Destroyed one of my favorite shirts, but, worth it."

"It really was,” Tommy snorts. “The best version of Jon's face I've ever seen."

Dan laughs, tight but real, "We should find that photo. Once we get out of here."

"We can do that,” Tommy promises, “I'll frame it for you."

"I look forward to it," Dan lets out a sigh of relief as the doctor puts his hand down.

"And?" Tommy looks over, heart rate rising nervously. "How is it?"

"The bones are crushed," the doctor sighs, "and most of the nerves are damaged."

Dan makes a soft hurt noise, squeezing Tommy's hand tightly. Tommy shakes his head at Dan, "We're going to get you through this," and looks back at the doctor, "What does that mean?"

"We can attempt some surgeries to do what we can,” she sighs softly, “but- even with a lot of PT, you'll probably never get back full use, and you might not get very much use at all."

Dan squeezes his eyes closed and murmurs, "I won't ever get back out in the field."

Tommy swallows and squeezes his hand “there’s-” he bites his lip, searching for comforting words and coming up at a complete loss. “Fuck.”

Dan makes a soft hurt noise, turning towards Tommy and Tommy forces his brain into check, for Dan’s sake. “Well, I might get court martialed anyway, we can retire in a blaze of glory together,” Tommy forces out.

Dan looks at him, his eyes still wet with pain but his voice a little hopeful, "I've always wanted to go out in a blaze of glory."

Tommy laughs thinly, “worse ways to end a career,” squeezing Dan’s hand and promising, “You’re a damn hero Pfeiffer.”

Dan laughs out a groan, "I doubt the brass will see it that way."

“They will,” Tommy promises, “you got captured and you gave nothing up.”

Dan swallows, "and almost lost three of their best soldiers trying to rescue me."

“Didn’t lose anyone,” Tommy shakes his head, “And stop that train of thought right there; we’re a team, of course we were going to rescue you.”

Dan frowns a little, the pieces visibly clicking into place in his brain, "We were going to rescue… Tommy, tell me this was a sanctioned rescue.”

Tommy flushes and bites his lip. “Ah, I can tell you that, but-”

"Tommy!" Dan tries to sit up, crying out.

Tommy reaches to hold his shoulder, frowning as Dan tries to hide a wince at the contact. “Don’t you dare try and tell me you wouldn’t have done the same. We got you home safe, that’s all we care about.”

"If something had happened to you, because of me-” Dan looks up at Tommy with wet eyes.

"It would have been worth it," Tommy promises.

Dan shakes his head, “It wouldn’t have been. It couldn’t have been.”

Tommy shakes his head, "It would have, it always would have,” he promises. “So why don't you let the doctor work? Make sure it stays worth it."

Dan makes a soft broken noise, but leans back against the pillows, still clutching Tommy’s hand. “I’m pretty much done,” the doctor smiles gently, “I just want to talk to you about what else is going on. It looks like you’ve had some pretty serious electric shocks?”

Dan nods carefully. "It was their method of choice." Tommy stiffens, wanting to kill every person who dared to lay a hand on Dan all over again.

“You’ve sustained some nerve damage,” the doctor continues, holding up a diagram with far too many x’s marking spots. “These places are where you have some degree of damage, which means you’ll continue to experience numbness there. But-” she presses on, “with careful management and PT, you’ll live a full life.”

Dan laughs bitterly, “A full life, right. Without” he squints at the diagram, “being able to move my thigh or shoulder or, oh yeah, use my right hand.”

"You can learn to use your left hand for most things," she nods, "and your other points are numb, not immobile. You're lucky to be alive"

Dan shudders suddenly, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” blinking down at his chest, “I think I might have... can you tell if I- stopped?”

The doctor frowns, reaching for her stethoscope, "Let me see."

Tommy leans forward, his heart pounding, “you mean-” his whole body revolting at the image, “they stopped your heart?”

Dan swallows. "I think it was an accidental side effect."

The doctor hums, listening, “I think you’re right. Explains the ribs too, they’re broken a little high for punches.”

Tommy has to catch himself on the edge of the mattress before he sinks down. "Is his heart okay now?"

The doctor nods slowly, “I wanna keep an eye on it, but there’s no real cause for concern.”

Dan squeezes Tommy’s hand tightly, “Hey, _breathe._”

"Your _heart_," Tommy shakes his head, trying desperately to regain control. He’s supposed to be comforting Dan, not the other way around.

"I'm going to be okay," Dan looks at the doctor for confirmation, "Right?"

The doctor smiles encouragingly, “You are. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Tommy swallows, clutching at Dan’s hand desperately. "You have to be. We haven't had enough time yet."

Dan swallows, looking over at him, “_Tommy_.”

Tommy shakes his head, mindful of the doctor’s presence, "later, but, yeah."

Dan blinks, "but yeah" he echoes a little disbelievingly, "sure," and looks back over at the doctor, "What else?"

"We had to remove your left kidney," she moves to check the bandage, "it was too damaged when we got in there."

Dan stills. "My kidney?"

“It was the safer option," the doctor nods.

Dan swallows, "what does that mean, long term?"

"It gives you a slightly higher risk of high blood pressure, a few other unlikely things," she smiles reassuringly, "but many people live totally normal lives with just one. "

Tommy swallows. "There's an awful lot of things he's going to be living a normal life with."

“They're all true though,” the doctor smiles at them both. “You have a decent prognosis, Sergeant Pfeiffer. You’ll do just fine."

Dan swallows. "If you say so."

"I do," she steps back, "but for now all you need to do is rest and heal."

Dan nods, "I'll do my best."

"Is there anything you can give him?” Tommy asks, clocking Dan’s wince.

"There's a couple options," the doctor smiles. "What's your pain level, Dan?"

Dan shrugs, painfully, "I don't wanna be knocked out again."

"Not what I asked," she raises an eyebrow, "one to ten.”

Dan sighs and tries, "six."

"He's terrible with pain," Tommy rats him out. "Add three."

The doctor hums, "nine is a lot."

"Seven and a half maybe," Dan sighs. "It’s tolerable, I just need something to take the edge off."

The doctor shakes her head, "I'll give you something for the next hour, but then I'm knocking you out."

“An hour is good,” Dan sighs in relief. “Thank you."

"I want to register my disapproval,” she warns, “but, have your hour."

Dan smiles, "thank you," as she puts drugs into his IV and waits until she disappears to turn and squeeze Tommy's hand, hard. "_Tommy_."

Tommy laughs wetly, stalling a little. "Hey, you didn't have to be a martyr, I'm not going anywhere."

Dan shakes his head, undeterred. "You didn't- the last time we talked-"

"I didn't mean any of it," Tommy shakes his head.

Dan looks at him intently, like he can see right through Tommy, like he always has. "It sure sounded like you did."

"I was wrong," Tommy corrects, leaning forward. "I was terrified and I was an idiot and when they took you- Dan, I never want to lose you again, I don't need anything else in the world, if I have you."

Dan shakes his head, not losing eye contact. "You would be giving up everything. I'm never working again, Tommy. You'd be giving up your career"

Tommy nods, swallowing hard. "I know that. It's worth it." He squeezes Dan's hand tightly and takes the leap he’s been aching to take since the bomb went off, "I'm in love with you Dan. I don't want to have this career if it means I can't have you."

"Tommy, that's-” Dan swallows. “Really? You'd give it all up. For me"

Tommy nods, scooting closer. "It's the only option I have; it’s the only option I _want_. If you'll have me, I'll do it in a heartbeat," he lifts his bandaged arm and says as light as he can manage, "hell, I might be able to make it a medical discharge."

Dan chokes out a laugh, "I thought I'd ruined everything. I thought I’d destroyed us and your career."

Tommy shakes his head, lifting Dan’s hand in his to touch Dan's bruised cheek gently. "Nothing's destroyed or ruined."

Dan leans into his touch like a lifeline. "I've never stopped loving you, Tommy. You're the only thing that got me through in there."

"I couldn't sleep, all week,” Tommy shakes his head a little, smiling at him wetly. “I spent every spare moment trying to figure out how to find you.”

Dan tugs at his hand, "and risked your life and your career to rescue me."

“There wasn't another option,” Tommy promises. “I was going to come alone if I had to, but Jon and Lovett were in too, of course."

Dan shakes his head, "that was so dangerous."

"You were being tortured,” Tommy stares at him, trying to memorize his face. “Your heart stopped. There was no other choice."

Dan pulls him down, "I love you, Tommy."

"I love you so much," Tommy promises, leaning in to kiss him, quick and gentle, pulling back a little as footsteps pass in the hall and remind him where they are.

"Don't go too far?" Dan squeezes his hand.

Tommy shakes his head, "I'm staying in this chair, I just- having someone walk in isn't the way I want to come out,” realizing as he says it that he does _want_ to come out. Once they’re both clear of the army and its restrictions, he wants to scream to the whole world, _he’s mine_.

Dan sighs, "I know, me either. I can't wait to get you out of here."

“So you gotta get better enough that we can leave," Tommy nods, squeezing Dan’s hand.

“Tom!” Jon shoves the door open with a bang, startling Tommy and Dan both. Jon’s hair is a mess and his clothes are rumpled, his face lined with worry as he stares at Tommy. “Fuck," Jon breathes deeply in the doorway. “You fucking scared me."

Tommy looks up at him with a wince, letting go of Dan’s hand reluctantly and feeling a bit like he’s facing a firing squad. “Ah, hi.”

“Jon?” Dan looks him up and down, perplexed. “What-”

“He went AWOL,” Jon glares at Tommy.

"I just said that your health matters," Dan frowns deeply.

"My health is fine,” Tommy shrugs. “Jon was nannying me."

“You’re _wounded_,” Jon glowers. “You snuck out of bed.”

Dan turns to stare at Tommy, eyes firey. "You're supposed to be in bed?"

Tommy sighs, "I feel fine."

"He got shot," Jon rats him out. "Damn straight he's supposed to be in bed."

"Shot?" Dan tries to sit up, groaning hard as everything twinges. “You didn’t tell me _that_, asshole. Get out of that chair.”

“Don’t move,” Tommy reaches for him.

Dan glares at him. "Get in a bed."

Tommy frowns deeper and tries, "When the doctor comes back to knock you out?"

"No,” Dan shakes his head. “You've already been out of bed for too long."

"Nice to see you up," Jon grins at him as he grabs Tommy's good shoulder with a gruff, "Come on."

"Take the meds when she brings them," Tommy turns to glare at Dan.

Dan sighs, "I will. I'll see you soon, when the doctor says you can get out of bed."

"Soon, then," Tommy promises as Jon drags him out.

The nurse is waiting outside Tommy’s door, tapping her foot. Tommy sighs and slides down onto the bed ungracefully. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry.”

“You were _shot_ Captain Vietor,” she glares at him. “Take these, now,” she presses two pills into his hand. “Swallow them both."

Tommy nods and tips them back, resigned.

Jon sits in the chair beside him once the nurse leaves and glares, “what the fuck, asshole?”

Tommy sighs. "You wouldn't let me see him, so, I took care of it myself."

"For good reason, Tommy,” Jon shakes his head. “What if you'd fallen and hit your head in the hallway?"

Tommy shrugs painfully, "I would have screamed and a nurse would have found me."

Jon swats his thigh. "You're an asshole."

“Why are you so mad at me?” Tommy whines, head starting to spin again and his arm, now that he’s thinking about it, throbbing.

“Maybe ‘cause you passed out onto my chest from blood loss and then disappeared without so much as a note?” Jon tilts his head. “You scared me, you fucker.”

Tommy sighs deeply. "I really wasn't trying to get shot."

"Could have fooled me," Jon glares. “We could have done the exact same thing, infinitely more safely, if you’d just _waited_ thirty seconds.”

Tommy shrugs. “It worked out.”

“What if the bullet hit your heart?!” Jon shivers a little.

"It didn't," Tommy frowns at him. Jon’s such a damn worrywort. "I'm safe and Dan's safe and that's all the analyzing I need to do."

Jon sighs, “you’re a damn fool,” hitting Tommy’s thigh again.

Tommy doesn't pull back, "ow," and sighs again, "I needed to talk to him."

Jon sighs heavily, "so you'll stay in bed now?"

"Can't you move me in there?" Tommy whines, fighting the sleep he can feel coming over him.

"Go there in your dreams" Jon smirks insufferably, patting his ankle.

Tommy hisses a little at him, but his eyes are already closing and the darkness is surrounding him again.

***

Tommy’s head is pounding and his arm feels like it’s encased in lead when he blinks awake the next time.

“Hey,” Jon’s face appears above him as he blinks groggily.

“Hi," Tommy frowns, trying to turn his head to stretch the crick in his neck. There’s a second bed in his room… a second bed that Dan is sleeping in. “_Oh_,” Tommy swallows, throat dry for multiple reasons. “_Hi_.”

Jon snorts. “See? The official process isn’t so bad.”

“It’s still slow as fuck,” Tommy rolls his eyes and coughs a little.

“Maybe you’re just impatient.” Tommy turns his head slowly to see Lovett sitting on his other side.

“Hi Lovett,” Tommy smiles crookedly at him. “What do you know about patience?"

Lovett shrugs easily. "Not much, but you usually do."

Tommy sighs, trying to sit up and groaning, "Why does my arm feel like lead?"

“Cause you got shot and then abused it,” Jon snorts unsympathetically.

Tommy groans softly, "It didn't hurt this much last time I was awake."

"You were on some weird adrenaline high last time you were awake," Jon rolls his eyes.

Tommy swallows, looking over at Dan. “Yeah. I needed to see him."

Lovett smiles a little “He should be awake in a minute.”

“Good,” Tommy nods a little, twisting in an attempt to see Dan better. He does feel more centered, now that they’ve talked, but he still feels like he’s missing Dan the way he imagines it would feel to be missing a limb.

Like Lovett’s summoned him, it’s only thirty seconds or so before Dan moves in his bed, making a soft hurt sound.

“Dan,” Jon crosses to his bed, reaching for his good hand. “Hey.”

“No,” Dan’s voice sounds strangled and choked and horrid, like he thinks he’s still _there_. “Please, please no.”

“Dan!” Tommy calls his name, struggling to sit up and pushing away the pain in his arm. “Dan, you’re safe, you’re in the hospital, we’re all here.”

Jon glances over at him and Tommy can see it click into place in his head. “Dan,” Jon touches his head gently, “Wake up dude, you’re okay.”

It takes a few, heart-stopping moments but the combination of Jon and Tommy’s voices must work to pull Dan out, til he’s blinking, “wha’s-”

“Oh thank god,” Jon grins down at him. “Welcome back.”

“Dunno where I went,” Dan mumbles, turning his head and lighting up, “Tommy!”

“Think you were having a nightmare,” Tommy frowns, trying to sit up and groaning at the pain. “How’re you feeling Dan?”

"Stop moving,” Dan glares at him. He’s back in his head then. Tommy’s pretty sure he’ll let Dan yell at him for every perceived slight if it helps hold the nightmares that must be coming at bay. “I feel better than you do it seems," Dan squints at him.

“Wanna see you,” Tommy grumbles, shifting again. Dan can yell at him, but he needs to be _touching_ him, at least.

“Ask for help, idiot,” Lovett reaches for a pillow to prop behind Tommy. “You’re not Superman.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. "No shit. I can't imagine Superman ever feels like this."

“After getting exposed to kryptonite maybe,” Dan murmurs, smiling over at him.

Tommy snorts, then groans. "Are you saying that I look like I've been hit by kryptonite?"

“Sound like it, a little,” Dan struggles to sit up, huffing as his muscles betray him. “What’s wrong?”

Jon frowns a little, leaning over Dan, "you have nerve damage and some of your muscles won't respond to you. Let me help you.” He frowns deeper as he helps Dan sit up. “Do you remember seeing the doctor a few hours ago?"

“Yes,” Dan rolls his eyes impatiently. “I meant what’s wrong with Tommy. He wasn’t this miserable a few hours ago.”

“Oh,” Jon rolls his eyes. “He was running on adrenaline to mask his misery a few hours ago. he's settling back into reality."

Tommy glowers over at them, “and Jon’s enjoying my pain cause he’s a bully.”

"I enjoy your pain," Jon snorts,"because you're reckless and you need to suffer consequences for your actions.”

Dan chuckles softly and Tommy turns wounded eyes on him. “Et tu?”

"I want you right there in that bed,” Dan shrugs a little lopsidedly. “Healing."

Tommy sighs heavily, “I’m working on it.”

"Are you?" Jon snorts. "You're not showing much evidence of that so far."

Tommy squints at him, “you’re not giving me much chance.”

"You got a chance, and you squandered it." Jon shrugs.

Lovett rolls his eyes. “Both of you shut up.”

Dan sighs, leaning heavily against his pillows, “Please. And tell us what happens next. Are we all getting court martialed when we get out of here?"

Tommy growls, “you aren’t.” He’ll go start burning flags if anyone tries to punish Dan for his heroism and trauma.

“No one is,” Lovett grins smugly, dropping onto Tommy’s bed at his feet. “The mission was above board and approved.”

Tommy whips his head back to Lovett, "_What_?"

Lovett shrugs smugly. "I got Colonel Walker to retroactively approve the mission."

Dan stares at him. “No shit.”

Lovett grins, “I accept Diet Coke and Taco Bell as tribute.”

"The moment I get out of here," Tommy says in disbelief, "I'll keep you stocked for life."

Jon laughs softly, “careful what you promise, that’s a lot of Diet Coke.”

Lovett flips him off without looking and shrugs at Tommy, "So you might both get purple hearts, once you're discharged."

Tommy swallows hard. "That would be- I don't deserve that."

Dan glowers at him, "_yes_ you do."

Lovett shakes his head, "I went through all the trouble, so, you're going to take it either way."

“I guess that makes sense,” Tommy sighs heavily

Lovett snorts. "'I guess that makes sense.' Honestly, Tommy, I should have left you to rot away in that bed."

Tommy blinks up at him. "I'm really grateful, Lovett. I just don't want praise I haven't earned."

"You saved my life," Dan frowns. "It's more than earned."

Tommy glances at him. "All three of us did. And as Jon keeps reminding me, I could have avoided... this," gesturing at his arm vaguely.

"You not caring about your own wellbeing isn't cause to deny a medal," Jon sighs. "Unfortunately."

"Someday when Jon is king," Lovett snorts.

Jon nods definitively. "First decree I’ll make."

Tommy laughs weakly, "I believe it."

Dan sighs, "Good thing you've got three people caring about your well being then, Tommy."

"I'm really lucky,” Tommy gives him a careful smile.

Dan smiles back as Lovett rolls his eyes, "Are we doing this now? Can I stop pretending I don't know?"

Tommy stiffens but Dan sighs, "I suppose so."

"Thank God," Lovett sighs "I running out of excuses to keep Jon away."

Jon frowns at him, "You were what, now?"

"They were not subtle,” Lovett shrugs. “But you're oblivious, so."

Tommy shivers wildly, feeling, despite his resolve not to hide anymore, like everything is spinning out of control. "We were subtle."

Lovett tilts his head, "Were you? Do you want me to list all the times I caught you? there was the time in that elevator in Baghdad," he holds up one finger, "the time in that hallway in Mosul," he holds up a second finger, "that time in Erbil, with those sheer curtains-"

"Okay, okay." Tommy says quickly, flushing and darting his eyes towards Jon. “I take your point."

Jon just shakes his head wonderingly, "I don't remember any of those."

Dan raises an eyebrow at him. "But you knew. When we talked last night..." Tommy’s heart drops. Dan and Jon talked, without him, about-

"Because Tommy ran off half-cocked to rescue you," Jon shrugs. “Last night just made it click into place.”

Tommy flushes, clenching his good hand into a fist and unclenching it while he breathes as deep as he can manage.

"It's okay, Tom," Jon turns towards him, face softening. "Relax."

Lovett nods. "Would have turned you in long before now if I was going to.”

Tommy chokes, “That’s not funny.”

"Your lack of trust isn't all that funny either,” Lovett swallows, sounding a little genuinely hurt.

Tommy forces himself to look at Lovett, trying to focus on the kindness in his eyes. "It's not trust."

Lovett shrugs, fake casual. "I don’t know what else it is."

"Fear," Tommy admits, soft and shaky.

Jon swallows, leaning against Dan's bed. "I can understand that."

Dan smiles up at him a little tightly, "Like, a lot of fear," he agrees.

Tommy catches Dan’s eyes, "Fear made me do a lot of stupid things."

Dan looks back, unflinching and smiles at Tommy, wide and real and fond. "Me too. Not anymore."

Tommy shakes his head, "No, never again." He takes a deep breath and tells Jon, without looking away from Dan, "I'm in love with Dan."

Dan grins so wide at Tommy. It feels like a beam of love, directly into his chest, almost erasing the pain in Tommy’s arm. It certainly fills his heart with hope he hasn’t felt in years.

Lovett claps, obnoxiously, then softens and says sincerely, "I'm glad, for both of you."

"Thank you" Dan doesn't look away from Tommy, his smile slipping small and shy, "I never stopped loving you."

“Me neither,” Tommy promises. “Not for a second.”

Dan swallows, "Should have done this a long time ago."

“No more wasted time,” Tommy promises.

Lovett shakes his head. "You're lucky you're both retiring, you couldn’t begin to hide this."

“Yeah,” Tommy shrugs. “I don’t want to try.”

"Me neither,” Dan swallows. “It's not worth anything to hide you anymore."

Tommy grins, leaning towards Dan, then cursing at the movement. “Fuck, I want to kiss you.”

Jon snorts "that is not going to happen"

"I'll kiss you the second we're allowed to get up," Dan promises, then leans back agaisnt his pillow. "So, ahh, what are you two gonna do now that half your team's entering forced retirement?"

Jon shrugs, "Mope around and miss you?"

Lovett snorts, "We're going to find some better people to fill your spots."

"Good luck with that," Tommy smirks.

Lovett shrugs, "I've got a few leads," then sobers, "We’re going to miss both of you."

Dan smiles at him. "I'm gonna miss you too. Not the job so much, but you two."

"A lot," Tommy adds, looking at Jon intently.

Jon smiles a little crookedly, "We’ll come visit ... wherever you're moving to."

Tommy nods. "You'd fucking better."

"Someplace quiet, hopefully," Dan smiles softly.

Tommy grins at him, "I'll go anywhere with you."

***

_ **~ three years later ~** _

“Tommy!” Dan yells from the back porch. “They’re here!”

“Coming!” Tommy yells back, reaching for the last egg in the chicken coop. The dogs crowd around his legs as he walks back to the cabin and he laughs at them fondly, “you’re gonna miss jumping on them at the door and you know I’m not giving you any eggs.”

Dan’s already out the front door and walking across the yard by the time Tommy makes it around, his limp barely noticeable again after the arthritis flare up last month. Tommy’s glad this visit is falling in a string of good days; Dan will want to go hiking in the mountains with them this weekend.

More days than not are good, lately, years of therapy - both the physical and the mental kinds - paying off, for both of them. Tommy still wakes up from nightmares at least once a week, Dan’s still liable to go somewhere far away in the middle of reading a book or cooking dinner, but they cope better now. They’re healthier, and happier, than he ever dreamed they could be when they were sneaking blowjobs in the desert.

“This,” Lovett grins as he slides out of the passenger seat of a shiny convertible that, Tommy hopes, Jon rented, “is downright picturesque.”

“Mountain living,” Dan grins back, reaching to give him a one-armed hug. “Welcome to Vermont.”

“Happy to be here,” Lovett pushes his sunglasses up his nose, revealing eyes crinkled in a smile. “And to no longer be at Jon’s parents,” he adds sotto voce.

“Hey,” Jon protests, grabbing a duffle bag from the backseat. “You chose to come. Hey sweetie,” his voice shifts as Lucca jumps on his knees, bending to pet her.

“Lu!” Tommy strides over to grab her collar, grinning at Jon. “She’s… learning?”

“She’s two and a half,” Dan mutters to Lovett.

Tommy ignores him in favor of wrapping Jon in a bear hug. It’s been far too long since they’ve seen each other, and grainy skype calls and infrequent emails haven’t really done the trick for the one thing Tommy misses about the Army. “It’s really good to see you, man,” he murmurs in Jon’s ear.

“You too,” Jon grins back. “And I’m ready for your master class in retirement, and these famous pancakes and maple syrup.”

“We tap the trees in the back,” Dan grins, reaching in the convertible to grab one of the other bags in the back with his good hand. “We have honey from our bees too. And milk from our neighbor, though Tommy wants to get our own cow.”

“I do not,” Tommy grabs two more bags. “Jesus, how long are you staying? I suggested a goat, _maybe_.”

“Goats eat everything,” Lovett frowns, walking ahead of them to the porch like he already owns the place. Tommy’s missed him.

“So does Moose,” Tommy laughs, nodding at the german shepherd bounding along at Dan’s side.

“You literally have rocking chairs on the porch!” Lovett exclaims, pushing on the arm of one to demonstrate that it does, indeed, rock. “You do know that you don’t have to actually act like you’re eighty, right?”

“They’re nice,” Dan shrugs, as Tommy grabs the doorknob and pushes inside, Jon on his heels. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Whatever,” Jon shrugs. “I wanna set these bags down, point me at some empty floor.”

“We’ve only got the one guestroom,” Tommy says, apologetic, “but there’s a daybed in the window seat.”

“We only need one bed,” Lovett says casually, coming in behind them.

Tommy doesn’t clock what Lovett means until he and Jon are in the guestroom, a cloud of dust that didn’t leave Tommy’s belongings for a whole year after Iraq rising as the bags hit the ground. Then he turns to see Jon’s face, ears pinking to the tips and his jaw drops.

“No shit.”

“Well,” Jon says helplessly, hands rising a bit, “when we landed in New York off the transport, I was gonna go get my train to Boston and he… ran after me and we… ah…”

“Kissed in the middle of JFK!” Lovett yells from the kitchen. “People cheered.”

Tommy shakes his head in wonder, grinning as Jon gives him a shy shrug, not even able to hide the smile splitting his face. He should have known, honestly. The two of them.

“I’m happy for you,” Tommy grins, steering Jon out into the main room, catching the lemonade pitcher Dan’s stirring one handed expertly before it can slip as they join _their partners_ in the kitchen. “And I need to hear absolutely every detail.”

“Not every detail,” Dan puts in quickly. “I see that look, Lovett.”

“Things are good,” Jon grins at Tommy, reaching down to pet Moose and Lucca.

“Yeah,” Tommy looks around their home. “Things are amazing.”


End file.
